


Color Me Surprised

by zxrysky



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Confrontations, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, First Kiss, Friends to Enemies, To friends Again, and also Lovers, except this time they don't dance, it's during that one incredible dance scene we all lost our minds over, talking it out, they're actually really super in love and they just give in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 15:04:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18252275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zxrysky/pseuds/zxrysky
Summary: Adora has just about had enough of this party. Princess Prom, buffet fest, whatever. She’s tripped like seven times in her tiny heels, even if Glimmer assured her they were so low they were pretty much flats. Flat doesn’t seem accurate in describing what her feet feel like. Stabbed through five times seems more likely.This party is an absolute wreck. She messed up with Princess Frosta, Glimmer is sulking about Bow and Perfuma, and the only thing that would make all this better is if Catra suddenly strolled in.But there's no way Catra would be invited. None of them are princesses, after all. Right?





	Color Me Surprised

**Author's Note:**

> this is just literally that meme where adora stares at her two hands and one of it says "fight the system" and the other says "but cat gf"

Adora has just about had enough of this party. Princess Prom, buffet fest, _whatever_. She’s tripped like seven times in her tiny heels, even if Glimmer assured her they were so low they were pretty much flats. Flat doesn’t seem accurate in describing what her feet feel like. Stabbed through five times seems more likely.  

 

The dress is nice and fancy and _gorgeous_ , admittedly, and Adora likes to stare at her reflection in an ice pillar when she thinks no one’s paying attention, but she’s come to the conclusion that it just gives her undue stress. Every time she takes a bite out of a cream pastry, she hurries to peer at the red chiffon, straining to see if she’s dropped anything on it. 

 

Drinking grape punch isn’t helpful either, because Bow casually assured her that spilling grape punch would cause a stain of a different shade to her current red. A very noticeable stain. That might not be able to be scrubbed off without the help of magic.  

 

The whole debacle with Princess Frosta is a mess, too. She should have planned for the possibility that the host would be a child. It’s not like Glimmer’s particularly old herself. There’s no rule saying the host of the ball _has_ to be an adult.  

 

And in the middle of it all, there’s some sort of cold war going on with Glimmer and Bow. She doesn’t quite understand it - it’s not like they aren’t friends anymore. Bow just brought someone else. Someone else who’s _also_ their friend. It’s not like Adora’s going to break out in tears the moment Catra drags someone in through the door and stakes her claim on them.  

 

Well, not that she’ll ever have that chance again, she supposes. It wasn’t like Catra commonly made a lot of friends outside of Adora, anyways, with her brash attitude, so the scenario probably doesn’t even count.   

 

“Why can’t we all be friends?” She asks a sandwich morosely, shoulders shaking with the effort of her sigh. The sandwich doesn’t answer, which is probably for the best, and Adora stuffs it in her mouth to stop from sighing again.  

 

She almost doesn’t want to search for Glimmer. But her friend is probably being sad up high on some balcony watching Bow live it up with Perfuma, and she doesn’t want to be the kind of person who leaves a friend high and dry.  

 

Maybe Glimmer wouldn’t even notice her disappearance. If Adora casually dropped by Bow and mentioned something about Glimmer looking upset in a corner, he would probably do something, right? He could just drag Perfuma along and make up with Glimmer in three seconds flat with his incredible social skills and they’d be a perfectly happy trio.  

 

They can dance the night away and Adora can go home with her flats in hand before twelve midnight and mull over how she really wasn’t meant for this sort of lavish aristocracy. She could be some sort of watered down, budget Cinderella. That’s still a Princess, even if she’s fictional. 

 

Adora is this close to calling it all off and going home. But she turns and catches sight of a Princess with her arms stretched out on the balcony with a despondent gaze staring at a mess of people on the dance floor, and resigns herself to turning that frown upside down. Or at least tweak it a bit.  

 

She takes a few cream puffs along for the ride. Glimmer perks up when she sees her, lips curling up into a semblance of a smile, and it only grows bigger when she catches sight of the food.  

 

“Aw, you got me food!” Glimmer exclaims, reaching out for one and pushing it into her mouth. If Adora tilts her head and squints, she can almost pretend Glimmer looks happy. As it is, she comes to the conclusion that either all Princesses can’t lie, or Glimmer’s just particularly bad at it.  

 

She glances over the balcony and spots Bow having the time of his life, surrounded by Princesses and laughing every once in a while. His eyes are bright, hands moving quickly as he gestures around, and Perfuma looks absolutely delighted to have him as her plus one.  

 

They’re not exactly dancing the way Adora thought they would. There’s no waltzing, no beats in triple time - just flashing neon lights and a floor that lights up whenever someone steps on it. It is nothing like what she expected, actually. Bow swings Perfuma around and she shrieks, fingers reaching up to grip him by the arms, hard enough that Bow winces a little.  

 

They look cute together, Adora decides, and privately decides not to tell Glimmer.

 

“You know,” she says into the air, eyes on Bow and Perfuma, “you could just talk to him.” 

 

“About what?” Glimmer replies instantly, voice hard. Adora lets a groan die in her throat upon hearing that defensive tone. She doesn’t know how to fix a friendship that’s left on its tethers like this. She can’t even fix her friendship with her ex-best friend.  

 

She shrugs a shoulder in Bow’s direction. “Just- anything. You’re friends, right? Surely you can talk about anything. You could even just go over and say hi. Perfuma won’t mind if you steal Bow away for a while.” 

 

Glimmer rolls her eyes so hard Adora worries she’ll pass out for a moment. “Steal him like she stole him from me?” She huffs, folding her arms across her chest. “It’s- I don’t _want_ to be angry about this, you know? I know it’s petty and it’s stupid but I’m just so angry. And I don’t really want him to see me when I’m being so stupid.” 

 

Adora thinks it through in her head. She can’t say she’s ever been in Glimmer’s position, but maybe she can imagine Catra being there. When Adora went to welcome the newbies in the Horde and somehow became their friend, she remembers Catra straying away from her side more often. She remembers Catra’s harsh, irritated voice and the way her body betrayed herself, tail always flicking closer and closer to involuntarily wrap itself around Adora’s wrist.  

 

Catra got mad at her once, saying all she had was Adora but Adora had everyone, and that sometimes she was afraid Adora wouldn’t want to be by her side anymore.  

 

Well, that memory hurts, Adora thinks, and tries to swallow past the stone in her throat.  

 

“If you don’t want to talk to him, I guess you don’t have to,” she tells Glimmer, offering her another cream puff. “We can just stay up here and be worried about how we failed to get Princess Frosta on our side.” 

 

A sharp laugh finds its way out of Glimmer’s mouth, and the girl eyes Adora with a small smile. “You’re right, Adora,” she says, leaning over the balcony. “Let’s just stay up here for a while.” 

 

Adora tracks her gaze and discovers that Glimmer’s gone back to her new pastime of staring sadly at Bow, and barely restrains herself from throwing her hands up in disbelief.  

 

“At least Catra isn’t here to make things worse,” she sighs, closing her eyes and leaning against the balcony, elbows on the railing as she presses the curve of her back against it. “The small good things in life, right?” 

 

Then there’s a familiar, low laugh that makes a shiver run down Adora’s spine and her eyes snap open. She’s heard that laugh way too often in her life to not recognize it the moment she hears it. It makes something warm involuntarily explode in her gut, a nervousness that spreads through her entire body and feels like a fizzing drink in her stomach.  

 

“Hey, _Adora_.” A challenging grin, flashing eyes, is that a goddamn _tux_ - 

 

Adora’s mind short circuits. It’s lived a good, short life of seventeen years and now it’s time for her mind to resign and kiss her body goodbye.  

 

She’s fairly certain the sound that escapes her lips is the sound of her brain getting vaporized and pouring out of her skull.  

 

Glimmer pushes insistently at her shoulder, hard enough to jolt Adora out of her stupor. There are tiny finger-shaped bruises on her exposed skin, and Adora gapes emptily at them, because if she turns, she’ll be gaping unattractively at something else.  

 

At _someone else_.

 

She faintly registers that the large woman dressed in a fantastic flowing floor-length outfit is saying something, and she thinks Glimmer might be saying snarky in return, but Adora is busy trying to figure out how to close her mouth while breathing and not losing what cool she has left.  

 

Catra slinking over to her doesn’t help matters. Upon closer, dazed inspection, Catra clearly isn’t wearing a tux, but she’s wearing _something_ , alright. A pantsuit? Maybe? 

 

It’s one of the things Glimmer tried to make her put on, but looking at Catra, Adora knows she never could have pulled it off as well as this.  

 

“So,” Catra begins, ears perking up, lips curving higher to show her incisors. “Aren’t you going to ask us why we’re he-“  

 

“You look really good,” Adora says suddenly, unthinking, and Catra stops in her steps. Everyone seems to stop in their steps. She thinks Glimmer is starting to hyperventilate next to her.  

 

Or maybe it’s her that’s hyperventilating, Adora thinks dizzily, staring slack-jawed at Catra.  

 

“I-“ Catra blinks, taking a step back, and glances hesitantly to her side. The woman next to her doesn’t offer up anything useful, shrugging with her palms up in the air and jerking a thumb at Adora.  

 

“She’s all yours,” the lady says, and Adora could almost thank for her that statement.  

 

Glimmer abruptly barrages into her, slamming her back into the railing with such force Adora swears it cracks beneath her back. It shakes, and Adora trips on her heels, hands pinwheeling out wildly in an attempt to stabilize herself.  

 

She braces herself to feel pain racing up through her spine when she falls, but finds herself caught halfway.  

 

Adora looks up, then she looks _up, up, up_ , and asserts that really, Catra looks at least five times better up close.  

 

“Cat got your tongue?” She smirks, and Adora, despite her better judgment, decides she needs to get herself together before she messes up another thing at this party.  

 

Catra pulls her up, giving her a long slow look from head to toe, and the way her smile spreads even further across her face makes Adora swallow tightly. She needs to do something before, before- 

 

“Adora!” Glimmer yells, and Adora looks away, breaking eye contact with Catra. She blinks at a furious Glimmer, who’s impatiently tapping a foot against the ground with both hands on her hips. “Hello?! They’re the enemy!” 

 

“Ah- yeah,” Adora says, stepping away from Catra. “You’re right. They’re the Horde, them being here must be something bad.” She shakes her head, slapping her hands against her cheeks. “We need to stop them.” 

 

“Explaining your plan to stop us in front of us doesn’t exactly sound intelligent,” Catra hums, a smirk curling over her face. It makes all the blood rush to Adora’s head.  

 

“I think it’s nice that they’re having a conversation about us, right in front of us!” The stranger grins brightly, nudging Catra in the shoulder hard enough that the girl almost stumbles. “They’re keeping us in the loop, you know? Catra, your friend is really nice!” 

 

“We’re not friends, Scorpia,” Catra snaps back angrily, tucking her hands in her pockets. Adora’s gaze is instantly drawn there- Catra would normally cross her hands across her chest, because their uniforms don’t have pockets. But her current position makes the fabric tense and crease over the curve of her shoulders, pulling along the line of her waist and cutting along her hips.  

 

“Sorry, Glimmer,” she breathes out, quiet enough that the Horde pair before her likely won’t hear her. “I think I’m going to be kinda useless. You should make a plan. I’ll follow it.” 

 

Glimmer shoots her a judgmental look through narrowed eyes, turning to stare at Catra with enough heat to melt the entire palace, and turns back to Adora.

 

“You _like_ her,” she hisses quietly, disbelief making her voice go high. At least she’s marginally quiet about it, Adora considers, but the flush that rushes to her cheeks betrays her before she can defend herself.

 

Glimmer looks torn between being annoyed and laughing. “They’re the _bad_ guys, Adora!” She says, griping Adora by the shoulders and shaking her around. “Do I need to slap you awake? God, you’re more useless than Bow right now! Adora, we _need_ you to focus!” 

 

She needs- yeah, she needs to focus. To close her mouth and straighten and keep a close eye on the Horde to make sure they don’t do anything to ruin the party. Or gain Princess Frosta’s support before they can.  

 

There’s a determined look in her eyes when she peers down at Glimmer. “I got it,” Adora tells her, and nods firmly. “I won’t- _that_ won’t happen again. I won’t lose focus.” 

 

Glimmer looks like she doesn’t believe her, which seems fair enough. “I’ll be counting on you,” she says, sounding mildly dubious as she scrunches her nose up.  

 

“I’ll mark Catra and make sure she doesn’t do anything suspicious,” Adora tacks on immediately, and Glimmer groans, burying her face in her palms, wings fluttering from agitation.  

 

“You _suck_ ,” she says, but Adora’s already moving to grip Catra by the arm.  

 

She offers a nod at - who was it again? Scorpia? - the lady next to them, her lips ticking up even further when Scorpia smiles back. Scorpia actually seems really nice, Adora notes, and she feels a little relieved that Catra’s found someone good she can rely on in the Horde, now that Adora isn’t there.  

 

She ignores the sting in her heart that makes her want to flinch every time she thinks of how she pretty much abandoned Catra to the Horde. It wasn’t intentional and it wasn’t even what she wanted - she wanted Catra to run away with her, but _no_ , she insisted on staying, and- 

 

“Come on, Catra,” Adora says brightly, tucking her hand into the crook of Catra’s elbow and pulling her towards the stairs. The girl follows, likely out of surprise and mostly on instinct, gaze darting back and forth from their hands to Adora’s face. “We’ve never been to a ball, have we?” 

 

They haven’t been to _anywhere_ out of the main Horde facility, but her point stands. And the best offense is the best defense, right?  

 

Maybe by distracting Catra as much as the girl’s unknowingly distracted her, whatever the Horde is planning won’t work.  

 

 

 

“Do you think this is funny?” Catra demands in a harsh voice, fingers curling and uncurling as Adora pulls on her wrist. “What- I thought you refused to talk to me! We’re supposed to be _enemies_ here, you know?” 

 

Adora leads her over to the buffet table and passes a plate to her. Catra instinctively grabs it and holds it out for Adora to pile food on, the way they’ve always casually filled up four towering plates back when the Horde had their biannual ceremony. When the food was _good_ , for once.  

 

An embarrassed growl starts up in Catra’s throat, but she stops trying to escape Adora’s grip. “Is there anyone left in there? Adora?” 

 

Her fingers flick back and forth, pointing from herself and back to Adora. “Me, the good guys. You, the bad guys. What are you _doing_?” 

 

Adora leans over to grab those tiny sandwiches that she’s seen Catra eyeing, stacking it on the plate that threatens to collapse under the weight of food on it. The girl stares at it, eyes lighting up for a moment before she seems to catch herself, slamming her mouth shut and frowning at Adora.  

 

Shame, she thinks. An excited Catra is someone she hasn’t seen in a long while.

 

“Let’s talk,” Adora says, and turns over her shoulder to glance at Catra. “This is me trying to distract you by having a good, honest conversation about what we seem to be so angry about.” 

 

There is honest confusion on Catra’s face, as if she can’t believe what she’s hearing. For her part, Adora thinks it’s a fantastic plan. Seeing Glimmer and Bow’s relationship breakdown before her is quite eye-opening.  

 

“I’ve come to the conclusion that I might need to explain myself further,” she goes on, and tilts her head at the rest of the buffet table. “Want anything else?”

 

Catra looks carefully at her for a long moment, jaw tensing, before giving a stiff nod. “One more plate,” she says quietly. It’s very out of character for the Catra she’s been meeting recently, but it’s familiar. It puts a smile on Adora’s face.  

 

She gently shakes the hand she’s holding. “If I let you go, will you run away?” Catra snorts in reply and the plate shifts in her grasp, prawns tilting and almost sliding off. Adora lets go immediately, reaching over with a finger to poke them back into place.  

 

Catra rotates her wrist, raising a judgmental eyebrow at the faint line of bruising around it, and Adora puts on her best sheepish expression. She really, really doesn’t want Catra to leave. Partially because who knows what this devious girl is planning, and partially because Adora hasn’t seen her in-  

 

It’s been ages since she’s got a good look at the girl, Adora realizes. She’s gotten used to seeing Catra every hour of the day, but that’s suddenly turned into haphazard scuffles and rushed meetings that quickly dissolve into the heat of battle and the flurry of escape.  

 

Her hair’s longer now. Her eye bags are more prominent too, something Adora believes she’s fallen victim to herself.  

 

“I missed you,” she says abruptly, reaching out to grab another plate, and she catches sight of Catra fumbling with her plate. The words make her cheeks heat up, but Adora’s determined to face the truth head-on and not run away from it anymore. Running away has brought them nothing but pain.  

 

Catra very carefully does not look at her. She stares down at the food instead, tail whipping back and forth, barely avoiding smacking into another guest.  

 

“Cat got _your_ tongue?” Adora teases, knocking her shoulder into Catra’s. There’s a brief moment where Catra rolls her eyes, mouth dropping open to throw out a sarcastic comment, but her gaze lands on somewhere slightly off from Adora’s face and Catra clamps her mouth shut. She visibly swallows tightly, and when Adora tilts her head in confusion, she almost doesn’t catch the tail end of a whine escaping Catra’s lips.  

 

“You need to get your head checked,” Catra mutters sullenly. “Is it the fancy dress? The makeup? The heels?” 

 

Adora eyes her in surprise. “I didn’t think you realized I’m wearing makeup,” she says, eyebrows rising up. “Glimmer assured me it would look natural, whatever that means.” 

 

“Your lips are shiny,” Catra informs her, and Adora lifts a hand to not-so-subtly dab at her lips. Catra makes an irritated noise and her tail reaches out to curl around Adora’s wrist, pulling it away from her mouth. “Don’t ruin it,” she says, with what sounds like agitation leaking from her voice.  

 

“I didn’t know it was _obvious_ ,” Adora replies, biting her bottom lip. Maybe if she licks her lips enough, the gloss will rub off.  

 

Catra blinks at her, mouth falling open, before she seems to catch herself and reaches up to stuff a sandwich into Adora’s mouth.  

 

“I said, don’t _ruin_ it,” she hisses, free hand dragging Adora to a corner of the hall, leaning against a pillar. “It- It’s nice. It makes you look-“ she swallows tightly, pausing for a moment as if searching for the right words to say, “-it makes you look less terrible. I can see your eye bags are bigger, you know? Guess your life’s been falling apart ever since you ran off to join the _princesses_ , huh?” 

 

Adora knows Catra is just spoiling for a fight, but that doesn’t make her words hurt any less. She doesn’t want to turn it in the direction Catra’s yearning for, however. She doesn’t want to ruin the night before it’s even started.  

 

In the end, Adora decides to toss a careless shrug at Catra, focusing on her food. Maybe a lackadaisical attitude is the way to go? Adora’s never tried to roll her eyes and her problems away at the same time before.  

 

Catra frowns, biting down thoughtfully on a cream puff. “Are you really okay?” She asks after a while, lips pulling down at the sides. “I rarely see you this quiet. Is it the shoes? Do they hurt or something?”

 

A grin slips onto Adora’s face. “You concerned? That’s cute,” she murmurs, and reaches over to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Catra’s mask. The girl freezes at her touch, eyes widening, before she flinches back and furrows her brows.  

 

It takes Adora a while before she realized what she’s done.  

 

“Glimmer and Bow had a fight,” she tacks on, quickly turning back to her food, face flushing. She finds that she can’t meet Catra’s eyes, not when her fingers are still trembling from lightly brushing past Catra’s cheek. “Or more like Glimmer got really jealous of Bow, and now she’s just moping while staring at him dance with Perfuma, and being the third person in this sort of situation made me realize I don’t want something like that to happen to us.” 

 

Catra scoffs, shaking her head and perching a hand on her hip. “You act like we’re still friends,” she says incredulously. “We are _not_ -“  

 

“I have a question for you,” Adora interrupts. She’s done with dancing around this topic with Catra. “I know we always bring this up, but you’ve never really given me an answer. Why are you still with the Horde? Why can’t you leave them?” 

 

Her fingers tremble around the plate, and Adora hurriedly pushes it back flat against her palm. Catra looks away, jaw working silently, and when she looks back at Adora, there’s something terrifying in her gaze. It almost makes Adora want to take a step back.  

 

It also makes Catra look super hot, and Adora takes a step forward instead, caging her back against the pillar.  

 

“I owe them,” Catra forces out through gritted teeth. “They took us in when we had no one. I hate Shadow Weaver for everything she’s done, but I can’t- I _owe_ her. I owe the Horde.” She glances up at Adora. “And so do you.” 

 

Adora blinks in surprise. “That’s it?” She says out loud, shock reverberating through her tone.  

 

“That’s a lot,” Catra replies, annoyed. “I have a duty to them and I plan on fulfilling it. I’m not someone who runs away from my _duty_ , Adora. I’m not you.” 

 

“I didn’t run away from my duty. My duty is to bring peace to the world. To make sure the innocent are safe. I thought that was what the Horde was doing, but _clearly_ they weren’t, so I switched sides.” Adora pauses, searching for the right words to throw out, and Catra rolls her eyes while munching on a prawn stick. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, I’m being serious. My duty is to keep people _safe_ , Catra. I can’t watch the Horde take that away from them.” 

 

“And that’s where we’re different, then.” Catra scuffs her foot against the ground, wincing when a claw gets caught on an ice chip. She straightens, finishing the last of her food, and tosses her plate in the bin. “I don’t see why we need to have this useless conversation.” 

 

This is it, Adora thinks. This is where the turning point is. The road before her splits into two, and she’s not going to take the one less traveled. Between teaming up with princesses all over the world and having her best friend back - well, it’s not much of a choice, is it? 

 

It’s always been her and Catra from the moment they met, and she makes her choice.  

 

“I want to fix this,” Adora says immediately, desperately, reaching forward to grip Catra’s arm. “You don’t want me fighting with princesses, is that it? I can stop. I’ll just go solo and fight the Horde by myself. I’ll stop teaming up with Glimmer and Bow and Perfuma and-“ 

 

Catra takes the plate away from her before Adora realizes she’s shaking. Her voice is trembling, and her grip on Catra is weak. It would be scarily easy to break out of her hold. But Catra stays in her spot.  

 

“I just saw a friendship break apart because they didn’t want to talk about it,” she continues, voice softer, and she directs her gaze to the ground. “I don’t know if they’ll fix it, but it seemed like it’ll never be fixed and it was _terrifying_ and I don’t want that to happen to us. I didn’t know how scary it seemed from the outside.” 

 

Adora looks up, and Catra looks stunned.

 

“I don’t want to lose you for _good_ , Catra,” she says earnestly. “I miss you. I miss waking up next to you. I miss laughing with you, sneaking out with you, making stupid promises at night and making Shadow Weaver mad at both of us. But I can’t fight for the Horde. I just- I can’t. I’ll do anything but fight for them. Anything you want, Catra. Anything.” 

 

There are a lot of things that Adora doesn’t add on. Like how she misses the way Catra curls up next to her at night, the heavy feeling of Catra falling asleep on her shoulder, the way the breath is punched out of her chest when Catra smiles brightly at her- 

 

“Shadow Weaver only ever got mad at _me_ ,” Catra says after a while, voice faint. “You were her darling golden child and I was just that weird speck next to you and then you _left_ , and all Shadow Weaver had to blame was me.” 

 

There’s a painful pause, and then- “I know,” Adora murmurs miserably. There’s nothing else she can say. She left and Catra suffered, and now she wants to reconcile with her? Adora knows she’s asking for a lot.  

 

But she still asks, because she doesn’t think she can live without the knowledge that Catra thinks of her as a friend.  

 

It’s just that simple, Adora realizes. She’s been feeling like a victim of phantom limb syndrome recently, except the limb is Catra and it’s more of her entire chest cavity instead of an arm.  

 

She lets go, setting her mostly empty plate down on a passing waiter’s tray and wraps her arms awkwardly around herself.  

 

“Don’t give me that face.” Something wraps tightly around her wrist, pulling her fingers away from her other arm. Adora follows it, taking a step closer to Catra, eyes trained on the sight of her tail curled along her forearm and tickling her fingers.  

 

The girl before her sighs, reaching up to press lightly at the corner of Adora’s chin and tilts her gaze up. “Come on, Adora. Did you really think I didn’t-“ 

 

Catra pauses, her mouth opening and closing like a dying fish sorely in need of resuscitation. Color rushes sharply into her face and it sends a familiar thrill shooting through Adora’s veins.  

 

She doesn’t know a lot of things, most of all where they stand right now, but she still knows Catra better than she knows herself and- 

 

“I just laid out my desperate heart in front of you. What are you struggling so hard to say, Catra?” 

 

She says it laughingly, tension easing from her shoulders the moment Catra flushes red. These are the moments she remembers. The tease falls from her mouth instinctively, and when Catra reaches up to smack her in the arm, Adora finds herself leaning into it.  

 

And then Catra makes a sudden change in movement, nimble fingers diving for the pretty collar of Adora’s dress, and pulls.  

 

Adora knows Catra won’t let her fall, even if they’re fighting on opposite sides of a stupid war, so she goes along with the motion, ready to roll into a tumble if she has to. There are many ways this could go. Catra could fling her over her shoulder. She could pull Adora into a headlock and mess up the hair that took Glimmer hours to prepare. She could force Adora to the ground and make her beg for mercy.  

 

It’s likely a toss across her shoulder, Adora thinks, holding her breath to prevent it from being knocked out of her when she slams against the ground.  

 

Then she feels something soft against her lips, and Adora doesn’t think anything at all.  

 

Her breath’s still caught in her throat, hitching in her voice as her eyes fly open. She makes a muffled noise of confusion but Catra bites at her bottom lip with her sharp, _sharp_ incisors and Adora decides to shut up instead.

 

It’s- Catra is warm, warmer than Adora’s ever imagined her being. Her fingers dig sharply in Adora’s back and arm, narrowly avoiding tearing her gown into flutters with those terrifying nails of hers, and Adora makes a weak noise into Catra’s mouth. 

 

She is suddenly very thankful that they are behind a pillar. Not exactly smack dab behind one, but behind _enough_ to have their silhouettes half hidden by the shadow of the ice column in front of them. Maybe if someone walks by, they won’t see anything amiss and keep on walking.

 

Maybe they’ll stop, do a double take, and squint at the barely visible figures of Catra bearing down on Adora, licking into her mouth, eyes closed and breaths heavy as they press against each other.

 

The thought makes her flush hotter.

 

Then the need to breathe resurfaces, and Adora - for the first time in her life - curses her lack of gills. Or whatever breathing system that can exist on a body without having to rely on lungs. She should have been a plant, perhaps, then she could just share air with Catra and never leave her lips again. 

 

They break apart, both of them breathing heavily and struggling to make sense of what just happened. Adora blinks, shaking her head rapidly, and forces her forehead against the cool surface of the icy pillar. She needs to calm down. She’s probably as red as her dress. 

 

Glimmer shouldn’t have bothered putting blush on for her, not when being around Catra apparently activates her blood flow far better than any rouge can fake it. 

 

She glances back. There’s a burning curiosity to find out if Catra is as unsettled as she is. But then again, Catra _did_ initiate the whole- the whole _whatever_ that just happened, so maybe-

 

“Woah,” Adora says, and she thinks she can hear glee in her voice. “I’ve never seen you this red. I think you’re redder than your _tux_.”

 

“My tux is not red,” Catra mutters back, voice muffled from the hand she’s pressing against the bottom half of her face, desperately trying to avoid Adora’s eyes. “It’s maroon. Scorpia said so.”

 

Her tail flicks about in agitation, curling up around Adora’s hand, the fur brushing against the inside of her wrist, and whips away the moment Catra notices what’s happening. Catra grabs her tail in one hand, the other still covering her face, and her eyes are wide with something Adora can’t place. 

 

She clears her throat, and tucks a stray lock of hair that fell out in the excitement behind her ear. “That was nice,” Adora says slowly, and her lips involuntarily spread wide. This means Catra likes her, right? “You _like-like_ me.”

 

The girl before her cringes, shoulders coming up to the bottom of her ears, and doesn’t look Adora in the eye. “I do not.”

 

“You swept me into a kiss. Princess style. I felt very romanced, you know?” 

 

It’s scarily easy to fall back into the playful, teasing tone she’s always adopted with Catra. Because it’s something they both understand. They’re so good at dancing around the weird tension between them that they could compete in a worldwide talent competition and win gold.

 

“This doesn’t change _anything_ ,” Catra hisses out through clenched teeth. The tips of her fingers are trembling, Adora realizes. “We’re still on opposite sides of this war.”

 

“We don’t _have_ to be,” Adora tried one last time, but it’s a weak rebuttal. Her mind’s addled from the kiss. The kiss - it means something, right? It’s a finale to all the unspoken words between them. Even if they’re on opposite sides, maybe they aren’t. Maybe they’re on a side all of their own. Just Adora and Catra against the world, like old times.

 

Catra looks up, making eye contact with Adora. She swallows tightly, jaw working, and leans in close enough to brush her lips against the side of Adora’s ear.

 

“Shadow Weaver wants to hold your friends as leverage,” she says quietly. Adora jolts, face paling, but there are strong hands around her wrists, shackling her to the spot. “Scorpia and I are here to cause a distraction and steal them away. Taking you would be optimal, of course, but taking them to lure you in won’t be as bad.”

 

“You- can’t.” Adora’s voice shakes. The warmth of the embarrassed conversation before has dissipated away, and the only thing left in her veins is a coldness that rivals that of the ice pillar behind her. “Catra, don’t pull them into this. You _can’t_.”

 

Catra pulls back. She stares at her for a long while, pupils dilating, and squeezes Adora’s wrists. “You’ll find that I can do a lot of things you don’t approve of, Adora,” she murmurs. “You can’t surrender yourself to Shadow Weaver. We don’t know what the Horde will do to you.”

 

There’s a solid weight to Catra’s words that makes Adora pause. There’s more to what she’s saying, Adora thinks, playing the words back in her head.

 

“I’ll be coming for them,” she warns after a while, voice decisive. “I won’t leave them in the Horde’s grasp for long.”

 

“Of course you won’t,” Catra says, and there’s a brief hint of fondness in her voice. “You never could leave a friend in danger.”

 

It sounds fond, but it also sounds bitter, and Adora thinks Catra is reminiscing about something they can’t reach anymore.

 

“I’ll make sure Shadow Weaver doesn’t wreck them, but I can’t promise they’ll be unharmed.” Adora scowls at that, teeth grinding against each other, but she knows Catra’s hands are tied as well. There is very little they can do against their teacher. Especially when Shadow Weaver has magic and all they have is sharp claws and unreliable transformation spells.

 

Adora takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself, and nods. “When’s the attack?”

 

“Any minute now,” Catra replies. “I’m supposed to be off distracting you during the dance while Scorpia sets up the bombs. And the dance just ended,” she finishes, nodding towards the large congregation of people.

 

There’s a flash of pink hair bobbing in the crowd as Glimmer follows something out of the hall, and Adora tries to suppress the sudden kick of fear in her chest.

 

“Take care of them for me,” she says finally, turning back to Catra. It feels like she’s asking a lot, especially when she’s not sure what’s going on between Catra and her. Asking her ex-best friend to take care of her current friends. It sounds demanding.

 

A smile spreads on her lips, brows furrowing, and she presses them faintly against the corner of Catra’s lips. It leaves a glittery imprint, and Adora resists the urge to wipe it off.

 

Catra’s eyes are wide, pupils so huge that all Adora can see is a vast blackness, and her shock makes Adora feel extremely pleased.

 

“Look alive, Adora,” she murmurs, and lets go of Adora’s wrists, stepping back. “Don’t act like you knew this would happen when you confront us, later.”

 

Adora blinks. “What do you mean confr-”

 

Ice bursts apart, an entire hallway falling to its foundations; ice shards glitter in the sunlight as they fall like snow over Adora. She whips around, eyes wide, and the smoke that’s billowing out of the hallway Glimmer wandered to is thick. It blinds her vision.

 

The guests are screaming. Not Perfuma, who’s desperately trying to rally them together and guide them to the exits. Good on her, Adora thinks faintly, and catches sight of Frosta hurrying with her soldiers towards the smoke. She can’t find Bow. Can’t find Glimmer either, but she thinks she has a pretty good idea where that friend is.

 

“Catra, was that _really_ necessa-” she turns back, mouth open, halfway through a word, and there’s no one left to greet her. It stops her in her tracks, mouth left gaping like a dying fish, and there’s a tick at the side of her temple.

 

Adora sighs, huffing air out of her nose angrily, and runs towards the weapons holding room.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a review on your way out or drop by my [twitter](https://twitter.com/zxrysky) and [tumblr](http://zxrysky.tumblr.com/)


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